


Dear Yasha

by tfm



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: 5+1 Things, F/F, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:48:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27650234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tfm/pseuds/tfm
Summary: Five letters Beau didn't give to Yasha, and one that she did.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett/Yasha
Comments: 9
Kudos: 199





	Dear Yasha

_Dear Yasha_

_I love you so much it sometime keeps me awake at night._

Beau stared at the page. Maybe that was coming on a little strong. Maybe not the right way to go when they were in the frozen hellhole that was Eiselcross, trailing after a dead friend.

_I keep rereading the letter that you wrote me, because it's the only thing keeping me grounded right now in amongst the fucking madness going on in the world outside._

But was it? Was it keeping her grounded? Every time Beau reread the letter, she wondered if Yasha was secretly thinking about someone else. About someone who was smart, and funny, and had the capacity to love.

Someone that wasn't Beau.

But, one thing that Beau knew very well about Yasha was that she didn't really lie. Or if she did, it was really easy to tell.

_I'm sorry it's taken me so long to reply, and I'm sorry that I haven't been there for you with all this shit going on with ~~Molly~~ Lucien, but honestly I'm freaking the fuck out._

Beau stopped. Read what she'd written.

Then scrunched it into a ball, and threw it to the ground with all the other discarded letters.

She'd try again tomorrow.

.

_Dear Yasha_

_I'm sorry it's taken me so long to reply, you might know by now that I'm really, really shit at accepting compliments, so for someone to just come in and write a letter about how they love all the things that I hate about myself is a lot._

_For years now, I never thought I'd be capable of falling in love, let alone come to terms with the idea that someone might care about me just as I am._

_It's...it's a lot._

_It's something I'm working on._

_Seriously, though, did you mean all of that?_

Beau stopped. Put down her glass. She was three glasses into a bottle of a passable red that one of the cats had brought her. She had tried to explain to a very frowny looking tabby about the notes of plum in the 829 PD vintage, but trying to explain wine a cat was about as useful as...well, trying to explain wine to a cat.

More parchment littered the floor around the bathtub. Beau had no intentions of doing anything with this particular letter (far too honest, even for someone as forthright as Beau), but she wanted to at least get those feelings out on paper.

It was good for the soul, Caduceus would say.

Just fucking kiss her, Jester would say.

.

_Dear Yasha_

_I want you to bend me over a bed, and fuck me like an animal. I want you to raw me so hard that I forget my own name. I want to scream so loudly that Fjord can't look either of us in the eye at breakfast, and Caleb puts up extra soundproofing._

Beau put down her pen and her parchment, and went to the bed. That one _definitely_ wasn't going to go to Yasha, but there was still some food for thought.

.

_Dear Yasha_

_Your eyes are like diverse biomes. One is the swamp, and the other is the sky._

_Your wings are like the clouds on a sunny day._

_Your hair—_

'Nope,' Beau muttered. She didn't even try to think of what came next, simple scrunching the parchment into a ball once more, and chucking it over her shoulder. There was a very indignant “meow!” from behind her.

'Shit, sorry Freckle!'

.

_Yasha_

_When you wrap your arms around me, I feel safe. Whatever else in life happens, wherever this strange and dangerous road takes us, I know that not only will you have my back, you will be by my side._

_My heart is yours, forever and always._

_Beau._

Beau stared at the letter. Of the several dozen or so she had written over the last week and a half, this was the closest she had gotten to something that she would actually want Yasha to read. Almost, but not quite.

.

Exhausted, both physically and emotionally, Beau put down her pen. This was it. This was the letter that she was going to give to Yasha.

Not in person or anything. She wasn't that brave.

Beau pulled the sash next to her desk, and about two seconds later, a black and white cat appeared, snaking around Beau's heels, waiting for an order.

'Can you take this to Yasha's room?' Beau asked it. She handed over the wound scroll, tied with her hair ribbon. Beau didn't know much about wooing people beyond a very quick “hey, want to spend the night with me,” so this was all new territory. 'If she's there, you can give it to her, but if she's not, can you put it on her bed?'

The cat gave a _mew_ of assent, and took the scroll in its tail. 'Thanks Bartholomew.' Beau didn't move. If Yasha was there, if she read the letter, and she wanted to talk about it, then chances were, Beau would get a knock on the door very soon.

She waited.

Five minutes.

Ten minutes.

Twenty minutes.

Twenty-three minutes later, the knock came. Beau had dozed off in her chair, and the sound jerked her away.

_Shit_.

_Fuck._

Should she have gotten one of the cats to bring wine? Flowers? Or maybe that would have been presumptuous. Maybe Yasha was coming to tell her that she had only meant her letter as a friend.

Brushing down her robes, Beau stood.

She went to the door. Opened it.

A slightly flustered looking Yasha was standing there, holding Beau's scroll. It looked unopened. 'Will you read it to me?' she blurted out, before either of them had said anything else. The question startled Beau, who had been hoping to at least let Yasha have some time to process the letter before asking Beau about it.

But it wasn't as though she could say no.

Trembling slightly, Beau took the scroll. She pulled the ribbon off it, and absentmindedly handed the ribbon to Yasha.

'Yasha.' Beau's voice warbled. 'You would think that after all the note-taking that I do I'd be better at writing my feelings down on parchment, but I'm not, so please take this all with a grain of salt. I love that no matter what ridiculous ideas I have, from insane theories about space cities, to jumping off tall cliffs, you're there to support me. You make me feel like I'm worthy of being loved, and that's something that I haven't felt in a very long time. Even though you're a fucking badass in battle -' Yasha gave a slight laugh, but her eyes were locked on Beau. Beau looked down rather than try and figure out what Yasha was thinking. '—you're one of the most gentle and kind people that I have ever met in my life. After all this time, I know that you are the only person in the world that I would trust with my body, my heart and my soul.' There was a long pause. 'Beau.'

Beau's hand, still gripping the parchment, fell to her side. She could not dare look up at Yasha's face. Couldn't dare—A soft hand grabbed Beau's.

'Beau,' Yasha said. Her voice was impossibly soft. Finally – finally – Beau looked up. There were tears in Yasha's eyes.

Beau dropped the parchment, and neither of them made to pick it up. 'Um,' Beau said. 'Do you...do you want to come in?'

Beau's heart leapt as Yasha came into the room. As she bent down to pick up the scroll of parchment before shutting the door, she could have sworn one of the cats in the hallway gave her a wink.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this while procrastinating from writing something else.


End file.
